


Ember in the Ashes

by JennaLee



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bonfire, Infidelity, M/M, One-Shot, Oral Sex, Smut, Summer Ficathon 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7406164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaLee/pseuds/JennaLee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a camping trip at home in North Carolina, Rhett and Link exchange local tales while the fire burns down boundaries.</p><p>(Written for the Rhink Summer Ficathon - prompt, 'Bonfire'.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ember in the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> The Siren of the French Broad is a real mythical story from North Carolina. Though it does involve a darkhaired beauty, I have taken many liberties with the original tale.

A flick of a barbecue lighter, and the tinder caught and burned.

The flames spread to the tiny kindling sticks Rhett had carefully arranged in a teepee atop the mound of dry grass, which in turn licked at the split logs they‘d purchased in a bundle from the variety and bait store in Luart on their way to Raven Rock State Park. Link, sitting on a folding canvas chair, let out a cheer as Rhett sat back with pride and watched the tiny fire turn into a respectable little blaze.

“It needs to be bigger,” Link said. As usual, Rhett was doing all the work. Link liked to help, but he was also prone to burning himself or getting in the way, and they had mutually decided that it was best for Rhett to be the one to make the fire.

“Get off your butt and get some wood.” Rhett wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

“Nah,” Link said, putting his arms behind his head. “I’m comfy.”

“How about bringing the bacon, then?”

 _Bacon_ was an idea that appealed to the brunet. Link obediently stood up and trotted off to the car, returning with two long sticks and a package of thick-cut maple bacon. As Rhett built up the fire, Link wrapped bacon around the ends of the sticks and handed one over so they could both hold them close to the base of the fire. The crackling of the grease and the ensuing smell made Rhett’s mouth water. It was hard to be patient and wait for the bacon to cook thoroughly.

“Smells good,” Link said, eager. “Is it done?” He held the stick up for Rhett’s inspection, dripping hot grease on his shoes. “Oops,” he added when he noticed the mess.

“I’ll tell you when it’s done. Put it back.”

Darkness fell quickly in the forest. They ate together in the comfortable silence of two old friends, occasionally sharing a little grin and a do-you-remember tale from the days of their youth on this same river. Rhett always felt nostalgic when they visited their home state together. Life was different here. Simpler and sweeter. Link looked particularly good in the light of the fire. His glasses were on his head and his blue eyes looked almost violet and his bottom lip shone with bacon grease, endearing and inviting -

Rhett shook his head quickly and looked away, forcing the thoughts out of his head. If Link saw, he didn’t mention it. 

“We need to tell a ghost story,” Link declared after some time, watching the tangled shadows of tree branches dance across Rhett’s face. 

“A ghost story?” Rhett laughed. “You’ve heard all my stories, man.”

“You’re a good story teller,” Link said, pleadingly. “Come on, Rhett. Come on, bo. Please?”

The use of the old term put Rhett in an obliging mood. “Okay, okay. I’m gonna tell you the story…of the boys who went camping on the Devil’s Tramping Ground.”

The Devil’s Tramping Ground was a real place in North Carolina that was said to be haunted. It was a rough circle of barren earth in a wooded area, where it was said nothing could grow and no man could spend the night. People who tried to stay up all night in the circle said they felt a strange presence, and heard a soft voice lulling them to sleep. Campers who set up tents woke up with their tents miles away. It was supposedly the place where the devil himself was said to have risen to Earth from Hell.

All nonsense, of course. One glance at a picture and you could see a few weeds and blades of grass growing in the ‘cursed’ circle, barren as it was. It was also littered with garbage, broken beer bottles, and graffiti, suggesting the only demons there were the teenage rebel variety. Still, it made a good story.

Link had heard this one, and a thousand others like it, but he stayed quiet and attentive throughout the entire thing. He looked at Rhett with those big eyes, his face appropriately solemn as Rhett detailed the strange death of one of the campers, but something about the quirk of his lips suggested his good humour. Rhett could not look away, though he knew he should. Alone together, away from prying eyes, his explicit imagination was closer to the surface than ever.

When Rhett finished the short and rather boring story, Link grinned. “I’ve got one, too,” he piped up, his eyes sparkling wickedly. “The tale of the Siren of the French Broad.”

It was another North Carolina classic, and not one of Rhett’s favourites. But Link had been a good listener for him and Rhett was pressed to return the favour. “Sounds good,” he said aloud. “Tell me about her.”

Link knew that he already knew, but he began with pomp and ceremony anyway. He cleared his throat twice, and then lowered his voice.

“A man from Asheville went hiking along the French Broad river one day, all alone, with a picnic lunch and a tent in his bag so he could spend the night in the wilderness…”

Rhett opened his bottle of Gatorade and took a long drink. Link was using the longer version of the tale. The story didn’t much interest him, but Link’s orator’s voice was fun to listen to. _I could listen to him talk non-stop all day,_ he thought to himself, a little wistfully.

“The man began feeling strange as he looked down at the rolling waters,” Link went on. “He began to hear strange noises, beautiful noises, like an angel’s harp from Heaven, but whenever he tried to focus on the sound it would fade away.”

“Nowadays this wouldn’t happen,” Rhett broke in. “He’d have his earphones in.”

“Did I interrupt your story, Rhett?” Link looked indignant.

“Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Link went on, haughtily. “The man looked down the trail and thought he saw a figure moving between the trees. A beautiful dark-haired woman, completely naked, danced at the edge of his vision. When he tried to focus on her she disappeared. He kept walking, certain that he was going crazy, but the longer he walked the more he thought he saw her slipping out of the corners of his vision.”

“She was naked?” Rhett had heard several versions. Sometimes she was in a negligee. Other times, it was a prom gown, but he was pretty sure that was just a blurring of the siren tale and the other North Carolina legend of the couple who’d died in a car accident on the way to prom. “Was she wearing shoes at least? Her feet would be all dirty.”

“Rhett, she’s a siren. She’s magical!”

“But is she corporeal?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then she’s got feet.”

“Fine,” Link groaned. “She was naked, except for shoes. Is that better?”

Rhett grinned. “Okay, okay, go on.” He was being as pesky as Link usually was, and he knew it. It was nice to reverse the roles for once.

Link dragged out the tale for a while, describing how the man set up camp, slowly going mad with desire for the woman who would not leave him alone. When he slept, he dreamed of her, and he kept waking to see her there in his tent with him. The man was too obsessed with her to go home, so he kept walking deeper into the woods by day and sleeping by the water at night. Eventually, with her singing, she managed to lead him out of the tent and into the woods, back to the river from whence she came. They came to a mysterious whirlpool, where the man saw the naked woman beneath the surface of the water, beckoning to him.

Link didn’t end it there. “For the next two hours the man forgot who he was, and ignored the mythical siren’s obvious enchantments. They spent their time together in the dead of night, indulging the man’s every fantasy…”

Rhett laughed. “What’s this? I don’t think the original story had sex in it.”

“The next day, the hiker woke up at home in his bed,” Link announced. “He remembered everything. Of course, he thought it was all a dream, since it was obvious he’d never even gone camping…until he stood up and realized that he was naked and covered with leaves and pine needles.” He laughed. “Or maybe it was just a really good dream.

“That’s a new ending,” Rhett observed. Usually, the tale ended with the siren turning into some fearsome beast and eating her victim or dragging him under water. Sometimes the man just fell in and drowned. “It’s weird, man. How is it scary, unless she kills him or eats him?”

Link shrugged and smiled mischievously. “Sorry, Rhett. I made it up just now. I can do the usual ending, if you want.”

“Sure.”

And so Link finished the tale of the French Broad Siren, bowing his head low when it was done. Rhett applauded him to make the man smile.

“The original’s a little better,” Rhett said approvingly. 

“Not for the hiker,” Link argued. “I wanted a happy ending. In mine he just had the time of his life. You know that story is from 1845?”

“In a poem, right?”

“I think so.” Link grinned. “What if the siren was real? What if you saw one tonight?”

“We’re on the wrong river,” Rhett pointed out.

“Sirens aren’t tied down, man. They go where they want. Maybe the French Broad got too boring. Or maybe…The Cape Fear is deeper, and the siren didn’t want to be discovered. There’s a lot more people around now than there were back then.”

“You’re over thinking this,” Rhett laughed.

“Maybe,” Link admitted. “It’s your turn to entertain me now.”

Rhett picked up his guitar and strummed the opening chords of Tom Petty’s _Learning to Fly_. “You feel like singing?” he asked Link, who shook his head.

“Nah,” he said. “Your playing is nice. I just wanna listen. My throat hurts from talkin‘ too much.”

“Mind if I sing?”

“You’re good at it. Sure.”

Rhett was pleased at the compliments. He was grateful that the darkness hid the blush on his cheeks. “I’m better at _Free Fallin’._ I forget the words to this one halfway through.”

“I don‘t mind. I like both.” 

Link closed his eyes as Rhett began to sing. The taller man looked at the fire. The temptation to stare at Link when the other could not see him staring was almost too strong to resist. _He’s beautiful,_ Rhett thought as he sang, straining to keep his voice from choking up. _What would he do if I kissed him right now?_

Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot more. But the real question was - what would his wife do, if he kissed Link right now? 

_You took your vows and you made your promises,_ Rhett reminded himself. His voice became louder and stronger, defiant.

When the song was over, the silence was deafening. Rhett expected Link to clap or say something in appreciation, but there was nothing. 

“Are you still hungry?” Rhett asked, putting the guitar aside. “I kinda wanna break out the biscuit dough and hot dogs.”

There was no answer. Rhett squinted at the chair Link had been sitting on, but the man was gone.

“When nature calls,” Rhett laughed. “Don’t fall in the river, Link.”

He stood up and made his way over to their cooler, which was packed with more food and a couple of beers apiece. It was Link’s idea to bring one of the cans of pre-made biscuit dough, and Rhett had to one-up him by suggesting they bring bacon too, maybe even to wrap around their hot dogs. Rhett took the can of dough and two new sticks, two-pronged ones this time. He considered the beer but decided against it. It had been a traditional part of camping on the Cape Fear in their youth but Rhett felt he’d largely lost his taste for it. He preferred wine now, or whiskey on the rocks when the kids were gone and it was just himself and Jessie, alone in the house.

“Nervous pee-er?” he called into the woods when he returned to the fire and found Link still gone. “Come on, hurry it up.”

Rhett prepared Link’s cooking stick for him. A hot dog on one prong and biscuit dough on the other. He made his own, and propped Link’s up across the vacated chair. When his own food was done and Link still hadn’t returned, a cold touch of fear seeped into Rhett’s belly.

“Link!” he called. “Where are you?”

There was no answer from the silent woods. The cold fear spread.

“Shit,” Rhett mumbled to himself, standing up quickly. He knocked Link’s cooking stick to the ground in his haste but barely noticed. What direction had the man gone in? Where were his footprints? It was too dark to see anything. Link would have been blind, too, he reminded himself. The man couldn’t have gone far. Most likely, he was playing a joke. He had been the one to suggest scary stories, after all.

“Okay, Link, this isn’t funny any more,” Rhett spoke loudly into the black night. He walked a ways into the woods, moving slowly, unfamiliar with the terrain. “I’m not scared of ghosts, but I am scared of you tripping and smashing your head off of a rock. Or fallin’ into the river. I know how clumsy you are.”

Crickets chirped at him, deafeningly loud in the silence. To his left, something rustled, but the noise came from too far down. _Raccoon, most like,_ Rhett thought, but he took a step back just in case. The darkness didn’t scare him - it didn’t even scare his kids anymore - but there were poisonous snakes around the river, and alligators weren’t unknown to these parts either. Rhett’s breath quickened and he turned back to the light of their fire. 

A shape passed across the flames, too big to be anything but a person, but almost too quick to be Link.

“Link?” Rhett cupped his hands around his mouth. “ _Link!_ ”

As he stumbled forward, Rhett heard a strange sound, foreign in this dark and humid place. A tinny, bluesy burst of noise. His harmonica. It made Rhett’s heart jump in his chest and he gasped even as he heard a quick giggle after the sound faded, a giggle he knew very well. This time Link produced a clumsy, but recognizable intro to Merle Haggard’s _Mama Tried._

“Very funny, Link,” Rhett grumbled as he flailed his hands out in front of him to avoid taking a tree branch to the eye. “Pretty good, but that’s _my_ harmonica. You can have the guitar if you wanna play some tunes. Where were you hiding, anyway? Behind the car?” One of his shoes made a hideous squelch as it sank into a damp spot, likely one of his own footprints. Rhett winced and pulled it free. 

The fire seemed bigger. A few more of the logs they’d hauled in had been laid neatly across the red-hot embers that gleamed like demon’s eyes from the bottom of the fire ring. “At least you’re finally doin’ some of the work out here,” Rhett said in the general direction of the car. 

Silence, again. 

Rhett’s heartbeat still seemed a little quicker than normal. Something about this ancient place put him on edge. All the old stirred-up feelings in his heart, the sense of isolation, and the blindness caused by the large fire all made him feel like he was having a vivid dream.

A hand touched his shoulder and Rhett nearly bit off his tongue. A scream rose in his throat but he caught it, pushed it back, his brain knowing before his body that it was Link standing beside him. Standing very, very close beside him; Rhett suddenly felt hot breath on his neck and he gasped.

“Link!” he hissed, groping for the man’s arm but only brushing his fingers against warm skin. “Settle down.” He loved Link’s quirky charm, but sometimes the man could get into strange moods.

Link’s hands settled lightly on Rhett’s waist from behind. _No, Link, what are you doing?_ Rhett thought, but didn’t pull away. His protuberant eyes grew wide as Link’s fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt. 

“Camping all alone out here, are you?” Link purred in a voice that was not quite his own, a low Southern drawl. “Did you like my song?”

“It wasn’t half-bad,” Rhett said solidly, refusing to play along with whatever joke Link was playing. His skin felt hot and prickly beneath Link’s hands. Link moved his thumbs up and down in a gentle caress.

This was as far as anything had ever gotten between them. Rhett wasn’t blind and he wasn’t stupid. He knew he was attracted to Link, and he was pretty sure Link knew it too. Since Link liked attention he never seemed adverse to lingering gazes or the occasional spark when their hands brushed or their eyes locked. They had existed this way, in a sort of mutually respectful friendship that even their viewers could tell was more intimate than most, for over two decades.

Link’s hands moved with more sureness than Rhett was expecting. His long fingers curled around the indentation of Rhett’s waist, and then he was pressing his face between Rhett’s shoulder blades, his breath hot and damp. It felt good. Too good.

“Link,” Rhett said, his voice full of warning.

“Shhh.” Link’s hands squeezed him. “Look at the fire. Relax.”

Rhett stared at the bonfire, holding his eyes open, resisting the urge to blink in spite of the heat and the smoke. The longer he stared, the darker the edges of his vision became. Shadows spread and darkness swallowed the world. 

A silvery laugh came from behind him. The hands around his waist were gone, and then so was the warmth of Link’s presence.

“Link, wait.” Rhett had to stop this before it got out of hand. His weak voice betrayed him but he plowed onward nonetheless. “I know we’ve both felt certain things toward each other over the years - at least, I know I have, and I’m usually pretty good at guessin’ what you’re thinking too - but we can’t let these feelings take over.”

The thin snap of a twig underfoot betrayed Link’s position at his right side. He was circling around. Then he was touching Rhett’s belt, undoing the buckle, and if this was a joke then it was time for things to stop.

“Link!” Rhett tried to shout, but it came out as more of a groan.

“I don’t know who that is,” Link answered, coy. “That’s not my name. But you can moan for me whenever you want. I like it.” 

“What are you talking about?” Rhett made another grab for the man. This time, he succeeded, and he managed to seize Link around the waist. Link wasn’t wearing a shirt. Rhett looked for the first time, not at Link’s face but at his own hands on Link’s body, and saw that the man was naked. Naked except for his shoes. His knees went weak.

“Oh, golly…”

“I came from the river,” Link told him huskily. “I came out of a little whirlpool that only I can find.”

Rhett’s belt was open now, and so were his jeans. The words coming from Link’s mouth were nonsense. _I should kiss him_ , Rhett thought wildly. _I want to kiss him so bad._ Beneath the constricting fabric, his manhood was stirring with interest. “We can’t,” he managed. “We can’t…our wives…”

“This is just a dream,” Link whispered. “Just look at the fire. You can’t see me. You don’t even know what I look like. Maybe I‘m not even real.”

It wasn’t a dream. The heat of the flames, the slight breeze on his skin, and the sweat prickling on the nape of his neck and in the hollow of his back were all too real. It was ridiculous, but Rhett could not find it in him to resist. “You’re the siren,” he croaked. “The Siren of the French Broad River.”

“Sometimes I lure campers back to my river,” Link said as his fingers pulled Rhett’s burgeoning erection from his jeans. “But you…you were the one with the beautiful, irresistible song. You led me here and now you’ll have me and you won’t be one of the unlucky victims who disappears tonight.”

Rhett cried out, a sharp high note. Link’s tongue was wet and warm as it circled slowly around the head of his cock and then down his shaft. He put his hands in Link’s hair automatically but dared not to push the head down. _And now you’ll have me,_ Link said, over and over in his head. _Have me. Take me. Oh, Rhett…_

“Fuck,” he swore out loud. Link’s lips vibrated around him as he laughed, making Rhett curse again.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” Link observed as he pulled off to breathe. “Maybe if you visit my whirlpool someday, I’ll find something to shove in there, and shut you up for a while.” He went right back down, more than half of Rhett’s sizeable dick disappearing between his pink lips. At first he kept one hand on the base of Rhett’s shaft so as to not let himself choke, but soon he was reaching around to grab two handfuls of Rhett’s ass. He used this grip to pull Rhett closer and push him away again with the rhythm of his own movements so that Rhett’s cock continually fucked deep and hard into his mouth.

Rhett’s brain was more than half-gone at this point. Link’s words and lips and tongue were going to be the death of him. He was grateful that the fire had blinded him to the sight of Link’s head bobbing between his legs, wanton and eager. He was already half-crazed with lust. _I could drown in his mouth, easier than I could drown in the river like the siren‘s other victims,_ Rhett thought, and then wondered, _What kind of a weird thought is that?_

“ _Link,_ ” he moaned, and Link pulled off again and pressed his cheek against the rigid flesh. “I love - ”

“Shh,” Link said again. “Don‘t talk. Don’t say that name.” His hands scrabbled at the waistband of Rhett’s jeans, pulling them downward past his ass along with his underwear.

Rhett felt a touch of fear as Link released Rhett’s cock in favour of sucking on his own fingers. Though he couldn’t see, he could recognize the wet sucking sounds the other man made as he coated the digits liberally with spit.

“Slow,” Rhett breathed. “Go slow. Don’t…” He wanted to say _don’t hurt me_ , but that was ridiculous. Link would never hurt him. 

“Yes,” Link agreed, and then his hot mouth was back on Rhett’s cock where it belonged. His slick fingers rubbed across Rhett’s asshole, applying just enough pressure for Rhett to feel the stretch. When they pushed inside, both at once, it was immediately overwhelming. Rhett tensed up automatically and had to fight with himself to relax again. The fire seemed to dim, and for a moment Rhett thought he was on the verge of fainting. To ease the pain Link moved forward suddenly, swallowing down most of Rhett’s cock. He gagged thickly but did not pull back. The sound of Link struggling sent a powerful rush through Rhett’s body. The burning stretch of Link’s fingers inside him, penetrating him, became pleasurable rather than painful.

Rhett knew he shouldn’t be enjoying this. They shouldn’t be doing this at all, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t bring himself to push Link’s head away. Link’s mouth was everything he would have imagined: soft and roomy, exotic and forbidden, his flexible tongue seeking out the most sensitive places. The fingers moved in him, slowly at first until Rhett was opened wide enough for them to slip in and out more easily. Rhett’s hips began to thrust in time with the rhythm. Explicit images appeared in the flames; Link’s naked body, warmed by fire, spread out on a blanket before him. Sinking into the tight heat of Link‘s ass, making him cry out and beg, the fullness making his forehead wrinkle and his eyebrows scrunch together. Sweat beading on his skin for Rhett to lick away.

“Mmmh,” he groaned, hands hovering over Link’s head. “Oh - oh, oh, gosh, please…I‘m going to - ”

Link moaned back for the first time, sounding as overwhelmed as Rhett felt. The fire seemed to leap upward, impossibly high. Link surged forward, his nose touching the dark blonde curls at the base of Rhett’s dick as he took in the entire length and held it there, pressed into his throat. Rhett thrust his hips forward and let himself go.

The fire turned from orange and yellow to a blazing purple-white, like lightning. Like magic. Link gagged again and his throat convulsed as he tried to swallow. Rhett held his breath until his head was spinning and his world was a mass of flickering light and shadow, crazy fractal patterns splintering off into nothingness. He could look no longer, and closed his eyes tightly as the last few drops of seed were milked greedily from his cock.

When he opened them again, he could see beyond the fire and make out the shapes of the massive trees surrounding them and the stars overhead. If he looked down, he would see Link’s face peering up at him from between his legs, his lips red and covered in come. Rhett shuddered. If they locked eyes right now, everything would become real. They would kiss; Rhett was sure of that. And it would not end there.

The fingers inside him were drawn out very slowly. Rhett felt himself clench at the loss.

“Go to sleep,” his siren said, softly. “Go into the tent and sleep.”

Rhett did as he was bidden, wordlessly. He laid in his sleeping bad, staring up into the blackness. Outside, the fire dimmed, and then died completely. Some time later the tent flap rustled and Link slipped inside. There was more rustling as Link arranged his pillow. Rhett snuck a glance and saw that the man was fully clothed again. He ached to put his arm around Link, but he dared not move. 

_The siren went home to the river,_ Rhett thought just before he fell into the numbing embrace of sleep.

**

Rhett woke to the sound of birds and an ache in his back from sleeping on something other than his mattress. He remembered everything in a vivid flash. Link’s scent was everywhere, intoxicatingly sweet. 

Link was curled up on the other side of his tent, his earphones in, his phone in his hands. Stomach lurching, Rhett ripped the device out of Link’s hands.

“We have to talk,” Rhett told him abruptly before he lost his courage. “About what happened last night.”

“What?” Link asked innocently, his eyebrows quirking behind the frames of his glasses. “What happened, Rhett?”

“You know. You…”

“You fell asleep after you played guitar for a little while,” Link shrugged, his face forcibly bland and innocent. “Then I went to bed, too.” His eyes filled with warning for half a second, long enough for Rhett to grasp his meaning.

There was no point in talking about it, Rhett thought. Link knew, and he knew, but nobody else could never know. They could never really get together in the way they had last night. They were married men. Good family men. Best friends and coworkers. Anything more would be a disaster for their lives, and a betrayal to their loved ones.

But if it was a one-time dream…or a magical visit from a siren…that was a different matter. After all, Rhett never had seen Link’s face. Only the fire. He was commanded to be quiet by a magical entity in the dark. There was no choice involved…and therefore, no cheating.

“Let’s pack up,” Link told him. “We gotta get goin’.” 

_It was all a dream,_ Rhett told himself. _It was just a dream._ If he said it enough, maybe one day he’d believe it. _Just a dream…_

It would be his mantra for years to come.


End file.
